


Financial Matters

by Ariana Deralte (ArianaDeralte)



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types
Genre: Gen, Not meant to be taken seriously at all, ever seen Fawlty towers?
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-01-31
Updated: 2016-01-31
Packaged: 2018-05-17 09:01:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 562
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5862937
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ArianaDeralte/pseuds/Ariana%20Deralte
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Or how you fund the building of a Starkiller only a few light years from the heart of the New Republic.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

CN-4141, or Forty-one as he was known to his comrades, was not sure what was going on. He and his small troop of communications specialists were lined up in front of the steps of an impressive building made from the local trees on the new planet they had just moved to. The building was like nothing he had ever seen – there were winding wooden staircases, glass covered rooms with opulent chairs which dangling over the side of the cliff it was perched on, rows of rooms and balconies towering over their heads. 

“Troops,” said Captain Phasma. “You have been chosen for a special duty to the New Order due to your skills. It has been decided that a cover is needed for our activities on this planet while we build our new base. As a result, this resort has been created. You have been selected to man the resort. Your job will be to provide any and all services necessary to our wealthy guests so they return to the New Republic satisfied and with absolutely no idea that this is a New Order base.”

Threes raised his hand, which was a habit they were supposed to have broken by now, but Threes was not quick on the uptake. “Uh, Captain Phasma, sir, won’t they like, uh, notice our uniforms?”

Captain Phasma growled. “Obviously you won’t be wearing your uniform, CN-3733.” Threes was not fazed.

“Uh, what about our designations?”

“You will be assigned common names at random. Is there anything else you want to know, CN-3733?” Her tone implied that he better not. 

Threes did start to raise his hand again, but Eighty next to him kicked him in the shin.

“Very well. Get inside and get used to your new roles. The first guests arrive in a week!”

Forty-one had a bad feeling about this.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am aware that the Starkiller is supposed to be a mobile planet (which is ridiculous in and of itself), but I like the ridiculousness of the New Order trying to hide why they're buying a planet with setting up a winter resort, and then getting clueless stormtroopers to run it. Expect cameos from actual Star Wars characters occasionally but mostly shenanigans. 
> 
> Any and all suggestions as to what they should call the resort will be considered.


	2. Concierge

Eighty was not the only one confused by what they found when they got inside and out of their armor. She looked down at her briefing and tried to sound out the word. “Con-cy-eh-geh? What does this kriffing word even mean?”

Forty-one glanced over her shoulder. “Concierge is how it’s pronounced, I think.” He had a true talent for languages that suited a communications officer. “You get to man the front desk, welcoming guests and helping them plan things to do while they’re here.”

She was aghast. “I have to talk to all of them?” It was true she had a talent for accents. Once she heard one for a while, she could imitate it well enough that even a native would think she was from their hometown. But, that didn’t mean she actually knew what to say or do with said accents. “I can’t do that. You know how bad I am at this.” 

Forty-one sighed. “Well, since I’m apparently the hotel manager, I can assign someone to help you and we can come up with a script for dealing with guests but you really need to work on this. You panic in social situations.”

“Yes, sir,” said Eighty, trying to keep the doubt from her voice. After all, she remembered losing her job in the medical corps after asking Lieutenant Hux rather loudly in the cafeteria how his rash was doing. Surely she had improved since then, right? Forty-one was banging his head against their lockers though so she wasn’t going to ask him.


End file.
